Wаnwаn fеlt utterly borеd, finding hеrself far lеss comfоrtаblе hеrе thаn in the Prinсess's Residence. Unablе tо sleеp wеll during hеr аftеrnoоn nар, shе sаt by thе window in a dazе. Just thеn, Xiаo You mentiоned that thе eldest уоung mаstеr hаd invitеd hеr to fly kitеs. Тhinking it bettеr thаn idling аwaу, she sеt dоwn her brush and wеnt оut.
Thе Princelу Mansion wаs vаst, аnd by оfficial standаrds, it likеlу ovеrstерреd its bоunds. Hоwеver, nо enfеoffed Fеudal Рrinсе in the rеаlm wаs trulу so honest. Аs The Emperоr had said during his time аs the Prinсe оf Fu: fаmily, stаte, and the world—family comes first, then the state, and finally the world. The latter two were The Emperor’s achievements, while the former was for one’s own enjoyment. Thus, minor transgressions within certain limits were still permitted.
Precisely because the estate was so large, every corner of the mansion had a name—such as White Collar, Jade Seal, and Sui Marquis Pavilion—all to allow precise identification of locations. If one simply referred to “the east path, the west path, or behind the tea room,” it would be utterly confusing.
She wasn’t quite sure where Green Waters and Fragrant Banks was, so she called a Servant Girl from the mansion to guide her. Only then did she learn it was at the northeast corner of the lake. It was said that many lilac trees were planted there, and when they bloomed in May and June, the entire mansion would be immersed in their fragrance. To the south of the grove lay a large open space, slightly elevated and arched in shape, also called Steamed Bun Hill—perfect for flying kites. The Servant Girl recounted in detail that since there were no princesses in the mansion, only two young masters, such games were almost never played. The young masters had been instilled with a strong sense of masculinity from childhood. The eldest young master was a miniature version of the Prince, having learned his mannerisms and ways of handling affairs to perfection. As for the second young master, even if he was mischievous beyond measure, he had always disdained such girly pastimes.
After listening for a while, an inexplicable thought suddenly popped into Wanwan’s mind: having a daughter in the future might actually be quite nice. But in the next moment, she felt ashamed of her own thoughts. It hadn’t been long since her marriage of a princess, and she had already quarreled with Yuwen Liangshi several times. Who knew how this marriage would turn out? Thinking so far ahead was truly shameless.
She gathered her thoughts and continued forward to Green Waters and Fragrant Banks. The name Steamed Bun Hill was vivid and fitting—its rounded back resembled a small hillside. In the season of warm spring and blooming flowers, the ground was covered with soft, fine grass. Stepping on it felt cushiony, and she suddenly felt an urge to tumble into it.
Standing at the foot of the slope, she didn’t see Lan Zhou. Xiao You muttered, “We agreed to meet here. How come he’s nowhere to be seen now that we’ve arrived?”
She wasn’t in a hurry; waiting a little longer was fine. The scenery here was lovely, and it was rare to find such a place within a residential compound. People often said the Prince of Nanyuan was fabulously wealthy, and after visiting twice, she was convinced. The gardens in the palace were crafted as exquisitely as possible, yet they still fell short of the natural charm here. Even if kite-flying didn’t work out, strolling around and taking in the sights would still be pleasant.
She turned and instructed Xiao You, “Go look for the eldest young master. I’ll head to the top of the slope to bask in the sun.” With that, she removed her Step Restraint, lifted the hem of her skirt, and walked off on her own.
The slope wasn’t particularly high, but with the open surroundings, it felt closer to the sky. Standing there alone, a breeze brushed past, mingled with the faint hum of bees. The April weather in Jiangnan was truly delightful.
With no one around to see, she could do as she pleased when alone. At first, she cautiously sat down on the grass, wary of insects and ants, still somewhat apprehensive. But before long, she couldn’t resist any longer. Suddenly, she lay back, almost laughing aloud with joy.The scent of fresh grass filled her nose, her arms pillowed behind her head, and above her stretched a sky of blue and white clouds. Even with her face burning under the sun, she paid it no mind. It was a rare chance to be unrestrained, free from the need to maintain appearances. She propped up her legs and crossed them boldly, the fine pleats of her horse-face skirt fluttering like an open fan in the afternoon breeze.
Gazing up at the sky, her eyes suddenly caught sight of a kite drifting into view—slender and graceful like a young maiden, a thin sand swallow.
Those familiar with kite-flying knew that sand swallows were the most common kites flown in Beijing. Shaped like the character "大," with bat-like wings tucked into their shoulders, arched eyebrows, and vibrant colors, the plump ones were called fat swallows, while the slender ones were naturally thin swallows. The thin sand swallow had its advantages: lightweight and cleverly designed, it could take flight even in light winds and remain steady in strong ones, making it a favorite among beginners. She squinted as the colorful swallow nestled into the azure sky—how lovely. Even without knowing who held its string, it appeared free.
Yet, the swallow wasn’t flying very high. On a day like this, it should have soared straight into the heavens. After waiting for a while, she saw no sign of the flyer loosening the line. With such poor skill, the fine kite was wasted, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. Finally, she sat up, expecting it to be Lan Zhou, but the figure at the foot of the slope was tall and burly—it was actually his Ama.
Wanwan was startled, suddenly aware of her unladylike posture. She quickly stood up and brushed off her skirt. Just as she was about to ask where Lan Zhou was, the sand swallow swayed in the wind, then plunged headlong, landing stiffly right in front of her.
Tsk! She couldn’t help but frown. It seemed the Prince of Nanyuan was no expert at this. Even her two brothers would likely have handled it more skillfully. He looked at her with a face full of regret, while she returned his gaze with disdain. Still, he spoke up, "Lan Zhou suddenly complained of a headache and went back to rest. I ran into him on the way, and he asked me to bring the kite to you and apologize on his behalf."
Wanwan picked up the kite and walked down the slope, handing it back to him. "This swallow’s wings are broken. It won’t fly anymore."
He took it, furrowing his brow as he examined it. Made of thin bamboo strips, one had snapped, and the paper used for the wing patterns was torn, leaving a hole. It truly couldn’t catch the wind anymore.
He sighed in disappointment. "It’s my fault for not controlling it well."
"It’s nothing. Beginners are all like that," she said, unusually patient with him. She knew he was trying his best to accommodate her, even going out of his way to please her, so she couldn’t be too unkind.
"Let’s fix it. What a shame…" she began, but before she could finish, two servants approached carrying a centipede kite—a large head, a slender segmented body, each section adorned with legs.
Chang Bao hurried over with an ingratiating smile, bowing deeply. "Our master had this prepared earlier and left it here, waiting just for Your Highness. It’s a coincidence that the young master couldn’t come due to a stomachache, so he sent me to bring it to you. Perhaps the Prince could help send it into the sky as well."
So, first a headache, now a stomachache—what was really going on? She glanced at Yuwen Liangshi, who looked sheepish and rubbed his nose awkwardly.A clever person, failing to align their stories, or perhaps Lan Zhou had deliberately betrayed him—Wanwan found it somewhat amusing. However, the kite was a fine kite, meticulously crafted, with the wind whistle securely attached. Once airborne, it would likely echo across a wide stretch of the neighborhood. Yet, operating it alone would be difficult; she would need assistance from someone nearby. The servants, not daring to linger and draw attention, had already seized the opportunity to slip away, leaving only him to help.
"Can you run alongside me, Prince?" she asked, holding the head of the centipede kite and gripping the spool in her hand. "I’m not strong enough, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold it back later. Could you support the middle section first and then help pull the string?"
He nodded eagerly—even if he couldn’t, he would find a way.
She smiled, unusually gentle. "Just support it, don’t tug. When you feel it about to lift, give it a gentle upward push, and it will rise."
Friendship between people often develops through shared endeavors. For instance, if she had remained seated indoors, expecting a mere greeting or casual conversation to foster a special bond, that would have been nothing short of a dream. To cite a recent example, Lan Zhou, after falling ill and lingering in her courtyard for over ten days, had seen his relationship with her advance by leaps and bounds. He immediately drew inspiration from his son: relying solely on the title of husband to make demands of her was utterly ineffective. Instead, he needed to start with her interests. Offering her mountains of gold and silver might not even earn a glance, but accompanying her in finding joy—she would surely appreciate that.
"I don’t know how, so I’ll follow your instructions entirely. Just tell me what to do and when."
He was like an obedient, well-mannered student—polite, humble, and unafraid to admit what he didn’t know. Wanwan was more than happy to teach him.
Her eyes curved into a smile as she said, "It’s not hard to learn. Just run against the wind and let it rise with the momentum. Watch for the right moment to slowly release the string. If it starts to dip, use a clever tug on the rope. Through this interplay of loosening and tightening, it will soar higher and higher."
Her expression relaxed as she spoke of the kite, forgetting her status and the responsibilities she bore. This was good—after all, she was just a girl. Why live burdened by bitterness and resentment? By his side, under his careful care, this was the life she ought to lead.
She ran, her laughter blooming like flowers. He had never seen her like this—utterly joyful, her youthful body stretching freely under the sunlight. These moments, which rightfully belonged to her, occasionally surfaced, making them all the more precious. Yet, getting the kite airborne was no easy task. At first, he had the mind to watch her, but soon, amidst the flurry of activity, he had no time for anything else. The two of them ran toward an open area, gradually lifting the head of the centipede kite, bit by bit pulling the body behind it, until even the tail floated into midair.
Wanwan shouted, "There, there… come quickly, over here…"
She was too weak to handle such a large kite alone. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward—his mere presence brought strength. Wanwan was momentarily dazed, catching sight of his unrestrained smile, so bright and bold, crashing into her vision like a wave breaking through the wind. She remembered his earlier boast: the Yuwen Clan’s beauty was renowned throughout the land, and indeed, it was true. If a man was already flawless, what astonishing beauty would a woman of the clan possess? Since Emperor Qinzong’s reign, the Yuwen Clan had been barred from the imperial harem, likely out of fear that such beauty might bewitch the sovereign. After all, a peerless beauty, if determined to overturn the court, would surely find it far easier than a man.Working together, the kite soared into the sky. With only a short distance between the string and the reel, four hands scrambled to manage it, and in the rush, they couldn’t pay attention to much else. When his hand covered hers, Wanwan, even if slow to notice, became aware of it. Yet he remained completely at ease, his focus entirely on the kite, making her wonder if she was being too reserved and appearing somewhat petty.
His smile slowly shifted, from pure innocence to secret delight. His gaze never wavered, and his expression showed nothing amiss, but his hidden satisfaction was on the verge of bursting from his chest, ready to spill out through every limb.
He had truly exhausted every method, planning step by step. In truth, he wasn’t particularly interested in flying kites, but if he wanted to get close to her, this situation was the perfect opportunity. That kid Lan Zhou had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, and for him, as a father, to snatch the chance from his son’s hands was somewhat embarrassing. After yesterday’s incident, it took him a full day and night to calm down and figure out the reason behind her unusual behavior.
It was all the clever work of his good son, so young yet already walking the crooked path. She had been affected by his incense, her every move akin to speaking truth under the influence of alcohol—whoever she deeply loved was whom she saw in her eyes. She kept calling him “Eunuch Official” this and “Eunuch Official” that, never considering his feelings. He spent the whole night disheartened, thinking of tearing Xiao Duo apart, but never once thought of giving up on her. Given some time, he was sure he could uproot Xiao Duo completely. So today, he came to accompany her in flying the kite, seizing a small opportunity to steal a little closeness during their united effort. If he could view it from a clear perspective, it might seem pitiful and humble.
Yet there was no helping it—he simply liked her. He could hold his head high before anyone else, but in front of her, he regressed into a hunchbacked cripple. The kite flew in the sky, the sunlight dazzling, almost blinding his eyes, but he didn’t care. As long as she was by his side, it was enough.
The thin string in their hands ultimately failed to restrain the soaring centipede kite. The higher it rose, the louder its whistle grew, and the stronger its pull became. Afraid she might be dragged away, he held her tightly in his arms. Suddenly, with a faint twang, the centipede kite twisted wildly in the sky before flying off toward the distance.
“Ah, the string broke…” she murmured, clutching the reel with a sense of loss. “It just flew away like that…”
He tightened his arms, showing no intention of letting go. “It’s fine that it flew away. Now it no longer has to be controlled by anyone.”
Wanwan sighed, watching as it grew smaller and smaller, eventually turning into a thin black line. Every time a kite slipped from her hands, she was always filled with an indescribable regret.
After lamenting for a while, she finally realized she was still in his embrace. He held her from behind, his arms like an impenetrable fortress—reassuring yet unsettling. Her face flushed red. “The kite is gone, Prince… please let me go.”
But he didn’t speak. Instead, he turned her around and hugged her tightly once more.
Her heart pounded like thunder. She struggled briefly, but he said, “Don’t move. I have so much to say, yet I can’t utter a single word. Let me hold you for a while, please.”Wanwan's nose tingled with a faint ache. The little moments they had shared before now played out like a slideshow, frame by frame before her eyes. How had it come to this? She hadn’t disliked him from the start—in fact, she had even secretly missed him at times. Yet somehow, they had gradually become like fire and water, locked in opposition. Sometimes she resented it, resenting Yin Ge, then resenting The Emperor. Why had she been made to know so much? Wouldn’t it have been better to keep her in the dark until the very end? But each person had their own fate, and she couldn’t simply hide away in comfort, for this world belonged to the Murong Clan.
The only relief was that Yu Xixia and the Eastern Factory agents had found no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part. That was enough. Even if she let her guard down, she wouldn’t have to blame herself for it. He held her, and surprisingly, she felt no aversion at all. There was an indescribable, faintly familiar sense of comfort between them, a physical harmony.
Silence lingered between them for a long while before she finally heard him speak.
"Our marriage hasn’t brought me peace. Instead, my heart feels emptier with each passing day. Is it because I’m not good enough, so you can’t accept me? I’ve tried my best, and I’ll improve where I fall short. Please don’t ignore me."
His tone was tinged with grievance, not like a ruler but like a child longing for something he couldn’t have. Wanwan was taken aback, her heartbeat suddenly erratic. This man truly had a way about him—flexible and resilient, yet here he was, showing vulnerability to her. She lowered her sleeves, her hands fidgeting helplessly. She wanted to pat him in comfort but caught herself just in time, realizing she mustn’t act recklessly.
As for him, her lack of resistance gave him a glimmer of hope. The reservations he once held were slowly beginning to crumble. He felt it was time to change his approach—instead of keeping secrets, perhaps honesty would yield better results.
He took a slow breath. "Facing you, I feel truly guilty. Earlier, I made a mistake, one that has weighed on my heart ever since. I’ve thought about it countless times these past days. If you were to find out, you might distance yourself even more from me. But if I kept it hidden, I’d feel unworthy of standing before you."
Her heart tightened, her attention fully fixed on his words. "Your Highness, please speak plainly."
He released her and faced her in a posture of remorse, his hands hanging at his sides. "To bring you to the Southern Garden, I instructed Yin Ge to bewitch The Emperor. After she became pregnant, I had her slander and persuade The Emperor to issue an edict bestowing you to me in marriage. When you received the decree, it coincided with a time when I was besieged by rumors, and I ended up tarnishing your reputation. It was my lack of consideration, and for this, I will carry guilt toward you for the rest of my life. But heaven bears witness—my feelings for you, which I’ve expressed many times, have never been false. Please believe me. Now that I’ve revealed the truth, I am prepared. If you hate me from this day forward, I deserve it. Whatever punishment you wish to impose, I will accept it. But if Your Highness can grant me redemption, I will love and cherish you twice as much from now on, to atone for the sins I’ve committed."
He spoke with sincerity, yet it was also a strategic retreat. This matter was like a festering wound; if they continued to gloss over it without addressing it directly, it would only rot more deeply. He knew that her dissatisfaction with him thus far stemmed entirely from this issue. Perhaps by risking everything to resolve her inner conflict, things could improve from here on out.
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